


The Killing Kind

by Klayr_de_Gall



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Billy Has Issues, Billy is an asshole, Drift Hangover, Drift Side Effects, Emotionally Compromised, Everyone is older, F/F, Ghost Drifting, Jaeger Pilot Billy, Jaeger Pilot Steve, M/M, Rivals to Lovers, Steve’s endless patience, learning to trust through drifting, so has steve, the boys will figure it out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22927768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klayr_de_Gall/pseuds/Klayr_de_Gall
Summary: Unable to drift any longer, Jaegerpilot Billy Hargrove and Heather Holloway are shipped off to the Los Angeles Shatterdome to meet their new Co-Pilots.orThe One where Steve is Universal Drift-compatible but Billy's still tries his best to be the exception.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley/Heather Holloway
Comments: 76
Kudos: 122





	1. Desperate Measures

**Author's Note:**

> Pacific Rim is one of my most beloved movies and I always go look for AU’s whenever I stick my toe into a new fandom (Or dive right in headfirst, in the case of Harringrove) So it was only a matter of time that I would start writing my own, and now it happened!
> 
> I had this plot lined out for a while now, but chatting with ["Zayacv"](https://zayacv.tumblr.com/) finally kicked my inspiration into overdrive and I had to sit my ass down and write. So here you go!
> 
> Some information first:
> 
> Everyone is aged up about 5 years  
> Steve: 23  
> Billy and Robin: 22  
> Heather: 21
> 
> The kids: 17-19
> 
> Billy is Australian. Because I can, and because Dacre is.  
> All kaijus will be named after D&D monsters!
> 
>  **Warnings:**  
>  \- Mentioning of character death  
> \- Billy is an asshole  
> \- Trauma through drifting  
> \- Unbetaed

“I’m telling you, Jim! We will have the next Kaiju attack in under 24 hours! All my magnets just did fall of the whiteboard in LOCCENT! Again!”

“Jesus, Joyce. We won’t use your crazy theory as a warning system!”

Steve watches with mild interest while the Marshal and the First Supervising Officer were picking up their treys from the line in the mess hall, all the while loudly bickering. It’s not an uncommon sight, both high ranked officers fighting like an old married couple. When she notices Steve looking the older woman smiles and waves, and he rises one hand, alongside Dustin's cheerful “Hey Mrs. B!”

Internally, Steve has to agree with Joyce. Ever since she had told him about the magnets, he used to stick some - little colorful fruits with cute faces, courtesy of El - to the heavy metal door of his room. And they were always uselessly falling to the ground sometime in the twenty-four hours leading up to the next Kaiju-Attack. He had asked Alexei about it once. Something about an immense magnetic impulse something long before the Breach would open, the energy needed to stabilize the portal… something like that. Steve's limited knowledge of the inner workings of doors to other dimensions and Alexei’s limited English had made it somehow more difficult to understand then it already was.

“Dingus, stop spacing out.”

Robin elbows him in the side and redirects Steve’s attention back to the conversation on their table. His co-pilot starts up the tale about her latest Dating-adventure again, little bits Steve usually didn’t catch in their drift because the casual dates don’t leave a dent in her memories.

“I told you she was from Heliacal Nomad’s Tech-crew, right? Yeah, anyway. That was all she was talking about. _oh my god, Robin, Helical is so cool, Robin, I totally have the hots for Jane, Robin._ It got even worse after a few drinks! Girl, I’m spending my life in a Jaeger, I don’t wanna hear about it every second outside of one, too!”

“Obsidian Echo is better anyway.”, Steve can’t resist adding.

“Damn straight! Our Jaeger is the best.”

They gravitate toward each other in a synced motion, bumping shoulders instead of fists, because Steve is currently holding a forkful of grayish looking potato mash. No one in the mess hall pays their resisting pilots any mind, everyone long since used to their shadow drifting.

Dustin rolls his eyes at their antics.

“Yeah, yeah, we all know Echo is the best, I’m taking care of that! More important, Buckley: Did you get to kiss the girl??”

Robin goes to answer that question, surely preparing to rip their crew's little tech-genius a new one for asking sensitive questions he has no business being interested about, when the monitor in the corner of the mess hall flares to life with low static crackling. The noise isn’t all that loud, fairly inaudible over the clattering and talking of all the staff members, but everyone has learned long ago to notice the slightest signs of bad news. And any news coverage lighting up the usually dark screen can’t be good.

“Shit, a Kaiju heading for Brisbane?”, Dustin says the same time as Will chimes in with: “They deployed Rebel Prospect!”

Baby Byers sounds a bit too excited about the whole fight that is going to happen, but everyone is well aware of the big crush Will has on the male part of Prospects Pilote-Duo. And who could blame him? Billy Hargrove is a Rock Star. He and Heather Holloway were holding the highest Kill Count as a Team and their Mark IV Jaeger Rebel Prospect was a masterpiece of engineering.

“Why are we not gearing up?”

Licking his lips in a nervous gesture, Steve shares a look with Robin. No way Obsidian Echo could be of any help. Brisbane would long be leveled before they would get over there from their Shatterdome in Los Angeles. But it always felt strange to watch other Rangers fight while being not a part of the action. It made his skin itch, made him feel useless.

People start to gather around the screen, getting near to see better what is going one. Breakfast is suddenly the last thing on anyone's mind, trays and half-empty plates forgotten at the table, streaming mugs abandoned.

Steve stands in a sync with Robin, their crew shifting to let them through to fit in besides Marshall Hopper, who looks as ready to explode with energy as Steve feels.

"Why didn't they reach out the moment they knew a Kaiju was on their way?", Robin questions their supervising officer, eyes glued to the screen.

Hopper huffs in his trademark done-with-the-world kind of way.

"They did. But the PPDC gave direct orders for L.A. to remain on hold."

Sounds about right. The Pan Pacific Defence Corps is a worldwide institution, but their headquarters and big chunks of their investors are located in the US, so they are usually reluctant to order the Jaegers stationed in L.A for a drop further away.

It's dumb, but there is nothing to do against it now, no action that could help the deployed Pilote Team. Steve tunes out Joyce arguing about the Marshall holding that information from them, instead concentrating on the action on screen.

Rebel Prospect and the category 4 - a gigantic monster that looks like a crazy scientist tried to cross a brachiosaurus with an Ox, codename Catoblepas - just encountered each other in the middle of the Moreton Bay, Moreton Island already a destroyed casualty behind the monster. On-screen, it looks like a joke, like tiny puppets fighting, but Steve knows what it feels like, standing eye to eye with a giant monster while a deathly machine is pulsing around him. When the kaiju swings his long neck to ram it's giant horn into the Jaegers left elbow mechanics, Steve nearly flinches, can imagine the pain that this neural feedback will cause both pilots. Robin grips his hand. Hard.

"They are good pilots. Relax," she mutters, to reassure him and to reassure herself, feeds as much anxiety into their strong connection as Steve does. Having to watch other rangers fight is nearly as stressful as fighting themself.

Heather is a good friend, the three of them had met ages ago in their academy days while training for the Jaeger program. And while Robin has met Billy Hargrove, Steve hasn't, aside from a few moments of fleeting eye contact on every medial gathering they happened to be scheduled to attend together. by the PR Team. Hargrove had been an unconventional cadet, hurried through basic training to join his mother as a drift partner. No one did know much about the whole affair, and that the files have the hearest clearance makes it a bit suspicious but... it's not what matters now. Billy and Heather are a capable team and there is no reason for Steve to feel that nervous.

Taking a big breath under Robins assuring while short glance, Steve relaxes a bit. Without the anxiety creeping up, watching the fight is actually quite enjoyable. Rebel Prospect is a remarkably well designed Jaeger, the fastest from the Mark IV series. Not only could she match any Kaiju in tempo, but also in agility. And the saber-like blades attached to the back of her hands cut into the monster over and over again, making it scream and fall back.

"Yes!" Dustin's exciting jelling and hopping did draw quite a few pairs of eyes, not that it was an uncommon behavior for the curly Tech. "Get that SonofaBitch!"

On the screen Rebel Prospect draws her arm back for a last, destroying punch. She has the struggling Kaiju by its long neck, ready to cut clean through it - and then the arm spasms. A jolt goes through the whole machine, then another, then the Jaeger let's go of its target, staggers back a few steps, water angrily splashing. The outstretched metal arm falls uselessly to the side.

Then the Jaeger goes dark.

The mess hall falls impossible silent.

Cold sweat trickles down Steves's spine and Robin's fingers dig into his arm so hard he will have bruises tomorrow.

Slowly, the hurt Kaiju starts to circle the giant robot, nudging it with his tail, biting onto its metal arm and shaking it, like a playful dog with a new toy. No response from the Jaeger.

Just to imagine what it has to feel like, being caged into that same metal construction that was built to protect you, let's Steve shudder and he has to swallow a few times to not let a whimper slip past his lips.

The kaiju rips that arm right off, biting through it like paper. Rebel Prospect sways and topples forward into the bay.

The Marshalls phone chimes a second before the red alert starts to blare through the whole shatterdome.

"Obsidian Echo, get ready to launch! We are pulled in to run stand by!"

The last thing Steve sees before hurrying off with his Co-Pilote is Heliacal Nomad, Elevens yellow patterned Jaeger, launching itself out of the water and against Catoblepas' side, ripping the Kaiju way from the crippled Jaeger.

~~*~~

__ _Two weeks later_ __

It's an exceptionally hot day, even for Los Angeles, and Steve is hit by an unpleasant breeze the moment he steps foot out of the large metal doors and onto the landing deck. He strips his PPDC issue sweater over his head, should have known better than to were it today. But the Inside of the shatterdome always runs too cold, even the hottest summer not able to warm through the thick metal walls. That his insomnia is acting up didn't much help with the issue either, always feeling cold on to little sleep.

The breeze carries hot air and the undercurrent of a poisonous, dying ocean into his face, together with the rotor noises of several helicopters that are nearing fast. The small chopper for personal transport is not as interesting as the four helicopters that carry a gigantic yellow Jaeger into the loading bay. Heliacal Nomade is a beautiful sight, not even all the battle scars can change that.

Steve steps up to Robin, already halfway hanging over the rail to take in all of the arriving Jaeger. She automatically presses close to Steve's side the moment she can sense him, doesn't have to look to know it is her Co-Pilot. He puts a hand on her back. The next few weeks will be rough, Steve can tell.

"Still can't believe El pilots this giant robot all by herself."

They probably have had this conversation every time they meet El and her Jaeger, both sharp and otherworldly, both deadly, but Robin is still in awe. 

"You have seen her powers, Robs. What she can do."

"Yeah, and I also saw her piloting Heliacal. Still doesn't mean I can believe it."

The snarky replay makes Steve laugh, which makes Robin smile. She worms herself under Steve’s arm. It's a close fit, Robin is a tall girl, even besides Steves lanky form.

"Can't believe either that I won't be drifting with you anymore, Dingus..."

With a sad little huff, Steve presses his forehead to her hair, smile dropping as fast as it had appeared.

"Me neither, Robin... but direct orders. And you get to drift with your crush, isn’t that nice."

The comment earns Steve a punch against his shoulder while they both turn away from the jaeger bay to watch the helicopter land, the gust of air from the rotor blades tousling both their hair. For all that Robin looks pensive, Steve can feel her excitement radiating through their drift hangover and he can't really be mad about it.

After the catastrophic fight between Rebel Prospect and Catoblepas - that had cost them one Jaeger and would have killed both pilots if not for Eleven’s interference - word had been fast to make the round that Heather and Billy had fallen out of the drift mid-fight and were unable to reconnect. Couldn't drift since. Neither of both pilots had opened up about what had happened, and the higher-ups would have decommissioned them, if Marshal Hopper hadn't come up with a plan - it was Joyce's plan really but who cared about semantics.

Back when they trained together at the academy Robin and Heather’s drift compatibility had been through the roof, their ability only sabotaged by the fact that Robin had been very deep in the closet and was too afraid of Heather finding out about her crush on the black-haired girl. But in the last six years, Robin had left the closet, had left the _whole building_ and was publicly out and loved for that. She and Steve had talked about the new arrangement more than once in the past two weeks and Robin was convinced, all thought nervous about switching Co-Pilots.

As for Steve... he would just have to make it work with Hargrove. Being universal drift compatible was always a win. Or as Dustin insensibly had put it: Steve's deep need to connect and fit in was so strong it made him mold his neural link around whoever was willing to reach out.

He still has not forgiven Dustin for that statement, maybe because it was so true.

The chopper finally touches down, motor cutting off as the side door swings open. The Marshall is the first to deport, face pinched as like he had just eaten a lemon. Whole. The stormy expression Hargrove is wearing might just have something to do with that. The last time Steve had seen the blond pilot face to face - over the distance of a whole room full of military officials - had been nearly two years ago. Since then Billy had chopped off his blond curls, going for a short, more military hairstyle, with the longer strands on top already begining to curl again. He is wearing ripped jeans and a sweated through tank top, sticking to his abs. The moment he did lay eyes on Steve and Robin, he made a show of sticking out his tongue, messily licking his lips. The Asshole-Rockstar-act was already getting old fast.

Heather steps of the chopper last, her painted red lips twitching upwards a little when her former Co-Pilote offers her his hand to help with few metal steps. She is dolled up to, hair in a ponytail and big golden loops dangling from her ears, her chiffon blouse matching Billy's shirt in color - Steve just hopes that this was unintentional, in no way would he commit to matching outfits, if that was Hargrove's thing.

The moment Heather spots both of them, her pretty face lights up, rendering the little smile she just had offered Billy as a fake act.

With an excited squeal, she launches herself at Steve and Robin. Steve is barely able to keep the three of them upright, has to stumbler back a step to balance them, while Robin is just holding on to the black-haired woman in a tight hug and trusting her Co-Pilot to keep them all on their feed.

"Shit, it's so good to see you. I was so sure we would be going to your funeral."

The comment aims for joking but Robin's wavering voice betrays her.

"No way. You are not getting rid of me so soon, Buckley."

With a feeling of calmness settling over him, now that Steve can finally believe their friend is truly still alive, he allows himself to kiss her forehead. Heather smells of strawberry-gum and military soap with a little hint of summer flowers.

"We missed you. Glad you are okay."

"Me too, Steve, me too."

Only letting go of them both when the Marshall approaches with Billy at his side, Heather offers a soft little smile before standing straighter, back to her Polit persona. Both Hopper and Hargrove seem still pissed off, but not being caged in the passenger cabin of a helicopter together seems to help, at least.

"Rangers. I take you there already know each other. This is Billy Hargrove."

"Nice to properly meet you."

With a smile, Steve offers his hand to shake but is only met with an unimpressed stare out of ice-blue eyes.

"What a charmer," Robin mutters at his side.

Hopper's frown turns from _Done_ to the next kind of _even more done_ , but they are saved from a lecture when the doors to the deck open with a hiss and Eleven strids over to them. Nothing seems to calm the Marshall more than having his adopted daughter back in his own shatterdome.

Jane - that had earned her nickname as a number after a drift-experiment gone wrong - is one of their strongest pilots, and the only person currently able to pilot a Jaeger solo. Her telekinetic powers are strong enough to work the left hemisphere while she controls the right. Under normal circumstances, Steve would have probably flipped a table in horror while seeing a girl lift a robotic arm with her mind, but honestly, in an era where monsters from another dimension did come through a hole in the ocean floor... there were crazier things on a daily basis then unexplainable telekinetics.

Still fragile and little for her eighteen years, the younger girl steps up to the group. She had been riding in Heliacal Nomad's con-pot in full gear, just in case she would need to strap in. After a round of hellos and friendly one-armed hugs, she grabs her father’s hand and pulls Jim into the Building while asking about Eggos, leaving the four pilots behind.

"That girl," Heather smiles with a little shake of her head. "One day she will turn into an Eggo herself, by the amount she eats of that stuff. I wonder where the Marshal even gets them."

Billy grunts. Not an attraktiv sound.

"Don't be so grumpy, Hargrove," Heather kicks her co-pilot's calf. "She can eat whatever she likes. You are just pissed a kid saved your life."

The glare Billy levels at her is unimpressed and icy.

"As if you aren't."

"No, I'm not. I'm actually quite pleased to be still alive."

Steve is slowly getting the impression this not so friendly banter that is underlined with steel is about something else than just an Egoos-addicted girl. Feeling the need to interfere, he clears his throat.

"We sure are happy you both are still alive. Come on, Robin and I show you around. The Marshall wants to see all of us in two hours. So you better shower and get a bit of rest after the long flight.”

~~*~~

The meeting with Hopper goes as well as one would expect, seeing as they all already know what is their orders are. Joyce had been present in the Marshals office as well, smiling reassuringly at everyone and ushered them out afterward, but not without making the four of them promise that they would get some food. The lunch rush had already lulled down significantly, leaving the mess hall half full and moderately loud. Everyone wants to peek in and catch a glimpse of the two new pilots, but no one really stays for long, leaving them to eat their stall lentils and carrot stew in peace.

Tomorrow, Robin and Heather will try their first test-drift and both girls seem happy enough about it. But while Robin is still sticking to Steve's side, still feeling reluctant of letting him go as her co-pilot after nearly two years of jockeying together, Heather and Billy seem cold and distant, sitting a few feet apart on the bench and not talking, not even acknowledge each other.

By the looks the two are getting, this is much weirder then the way Steve and his drift partner always seem to be somewhat connected, often move in sync when maneuvering tight spaces, never bump into each other, only if intended.

Heather has started to give them the side glances about it halfway through the meeting with the Marshal and finally breaks down and asks when Steve swipes a glass over while gesturing at something and Robin has her hand out to catch it before it even tips.

"Really you guys... this is starting to get creepy."

"What is?"

Steve has to swallow down a mouthful stew to ask.

"Your whole... mirroring each other act."

Confused, Steve and Robin share a look and Heather makes a little _Yeah, that_ gesture.

"You mean the Drift Hangover?" shrugging her shoulders, Robin waves her spoon around. "Sorry. We do that a lot. We are both stressed out about this whole... situation. That makes it worse, actually."

"Bullshit."

It's the first thing Billy had said since sitting down, had only been starring in annoyance at the Shatterdome members around them - and the accession wink when a pretty tech walked by.

"Drift-Hangovers are bullshit. Glorevied bedtime-stories to make that shit sound like it's something nice."

The way Heather draws her shoulders up but stays silent while her Co-pilot gets all pissed seems defensive, she has obviously heard that rant before and is not agreeing with it. Steve can’t stop wondering what happened between these two three weeks ago when that fight went so wrong.

"You have no idea what you’re talking about, Hargrove. How can you not have experienced that yet, you are jockeying for 5 years now."

Even while scientists had no idea what exactly was causing the ghost drifting, every other pilot Steve had talked to had experienced something similar, feeling still connected to their Co-Pilot even after the neural Handshake has long been disconnected.

"You know a girl that is controlling a Jaeger with her mind, but suddenly a lasting neural connection is bullshit? Really? You are so full of your own shit, Hargrove. Steve even got the numbers to prove it."

"Robin."

But there is no way stopping her now, an angry Robin on a roll is like trying to stand in front of a freight train.

"The crazy scientists have run some tests on him and all his Co-Pilots. His brain just holds onto a neural connection thigh-”

"Oh, so he is a drift-whore _and_ an emotional tick."

The silence drops heavier them a ton of bricks around them.

Every crew-member in earshot seems to freeze up in shock, while Steve just blinks, has to let the words sink in. He had been aware that people called him that, weary or maybe envious of his natural ability to just drift with anyone. Universal drift-compatibility had been a gift to the PPDC, had saved their asses when a compatible duo of fighters was needed fast. Of course, some people were not going to like it, would be seeing him as a threat to the unique ability that drifting is. But no one had ever said it to Steve’s face before.

"What did you just say?!"

Robin pushes up from the bench, plates ratting, leaning far over the table and into Billy's face, who just smirks like the asshole he clearly is. She seems ready to stab his face off with the steel spoon she is currently pointing at him like a knife. Steve puts a hand on her shoulder, gets up himself.

"Come on Robs. It's not worth it."

The grin on Hargrove’s face spreads wider while he rises from his seat as well, dragging his tongue over his teeth real slow. Steve tries to pay him no mind, drags Robin away from the table, gets her a few steps towards the door when suddenly Billy calls out to him.

"Hey, King Steve!"

Steve tries to not flinch at the old nickname, fails.

"Was it fun to collect all that Kaiju-kills while burning through Driftä-Partners like cigarettes?"

It's obvious that Hargrove is trying to get a rise out of him, the way he walks around the table, gets close enough to Steve to snarl into his face, itching for a fight to get some pent up frustration out of his system. Steve won't give him that fight.

"I was just following orders."

He _won't._

"Did you say the same thing when they put Hagan into the ground? No time to worry about one dead Co-Pilot when there are plenty more tho mess with, right, Harrington?"

Billy's surprised face, when Steve's fist connects with his nose, is a satisfying image. It doesn't hold very long, Hargrove recovers quickly and knocking Steve back hard, not pulling any punches. The crew around them skaters, some brave tech-guy getting an elbow into his teeth for trying to grab Billy around the torso.

"You don't get to talk about Tommy!"

Fisting his hands into Hargrove’s shirt Steve pushes him against a table and they both topple over it with the momentum, taking silverware and full plates with them.

Steve gets a few good hits in against the side of Billy's chest, but he is too angry, too unfocused to properly remember any training. Billy doesn't seem to be in any better mindset, but he is a dirty brawler at heart. At least that’s what the heavy punches to Steve's face would suggest.

The cold lentils they are rolling around in make it hard to get any kind of leverage against the smooth steel floor and all Steve can do is to bring his arms up and trying to protect his face from to much damage. Both the girls are screaming at them but are smart enough not to interfere. Steve feels one punch away from a broken nose or eye socket, when suddenly Billy is ripped away from him and against one of the benches by nothing.

El is standing at the upper level, hand outstretched, eyes focused and hard.

"STOP THIS!"

The moment Marshal Hopper storms into the mess hall, the fight is over. The man could take them both on in a fight if needed, and his angry, red face _is_ as sight to fear.

"What is going on?", he demands in a tone that allows no arguing.

Slowly Steve pushes himself off the ground, feeling dizzy from all the hits he took to the head. He spits a mouthful of blood at the ground.

"Nothing, Sir."

Seeming one step aways from beating the answer out of him, Hopper eyes him up critically, but turns to Hargrove instead, who is currently half sitting, half lying on one of the benches, clutching his side, smiling with bloody teeth.

"What the Pretty Boy said."

It's only for Robin grabbing onto Steve that stops him from throwing another fist, that cocky attitude making his temper flare.

Realizing that he won't get anything more out of them, Hopper pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Ranger Harrington, report to medical and get that eye checked out. Ranger Hargrove, get cleaned up and go to your quarters. If I see any of you one more time today, I swear you are both decommissioned faster than you can say _'Fuck'_! "

Having made his point clear, the Marshall storms of without even waiting for an affirmative "Yes Sir" from the both of them. His whole demeanor gives off the impression that he would be slamming the door, wouldn't it be working automatically.

Breathing heavily herself, Robin gets Steve to keep standing with Heather's help, both girls dragging him away, holding onto one arm each so he can't surge forward again. He can taste blood from the split in his lip, and his left eye is starting to swell up, blood from the wound above it slowly dripping down his face, obscuring his view.

Hargrove does look as mangled as Steve feels, tank top ripped and nose gushing an alarming amount of blood over his chin that the blond just brushes carelessly away with his hand. He has the audacity to leer at Steve.

"That drift won't happen, Princess."


	2. This Means War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both new Pilot-Pairs are scheduled for standard drift-tests. What should go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m blown away by all the wonderful feedback the first chapter got! Thank you for all the hits, kudos, and comments! It means so much to me to know that you all enjoy reading my little story as much as I enjoy writing it!
> 
> There is some incredible Art that captures perfectly how I envision Billy, ["if you want to have a look!"](https://zayacv.tumblr.com/post/611207908992122880/i-was-testing-brush-sets-and-suddenly-liked-this/) Go support the Artist! Zayac is so amazing and talented! <3
> 
>  **Warnings:**  
>  POV change  
> \- Mentioning of character death  
> \- Trauma through drifting  
> \- Mention of child abuse  
> \- Billy being his usual asshole self  
> \- Unbetaed

The short way back to his room takes Billy longer then he would ever admit. Harrington had packed a few good punches, his head still throbbing in beat with the pounding of his heart, his back and ribcage feeling like some psychic girl had thrown him across the room with her telekinetic powers - oh wait. Exactly what had happened.

Stinging even worse then all the rapidly forming bruises is Heather’s decision to stay with her soon to be co-pilot and fucking King Steve instead of him. Billy and Heather never had the most intimate connection - neither falling into bed together once or twice nor agreeing on just being friends had changed that - but after jockeying together for over three years Billy would have had expected a little bit more loyalty. 

Tech-members scatter out of his way when Billy finally reaches his quarters, located on the back end of the pilot-wing, opposite of the one the Buckley-chick lives in.

It echos loudly when he slams the door behind himself, satisfying and calming in a childish way. Billy's new room is just a standard bunk, not all that different from the one he had spend very little time in back in Sydney. Old bed, even older desk, a trunk in the corner to store his few belongings in. Everything slowly rusting away, old fossils from back when the Jaeger-program had started.

The ancient screen hanging over the empty desk blinks with a message-notification. At least the L.A. staff had been fast to set everything up. Something Billy can appreciate. But it is also a reminder that his stay will most likely be permanent.

Harrington might be his only chance to keep piloting. Someone like _The King_ , with many years of experience as a ranger and even more Kaiju-kills under his belt, should be a good fit. That both of them are used to drifting might be enough to make it work, even without universal drift compatibility easing the way. But Billy just... that guy rubs him the wrong way. Someone with such a freakish ability shouldn't just run around and be allowed to drift with about everyone, especially not if what Buckley had said was true. Latching onto someone on an emotional level that deep to remain ghost drifting… Billy is used to building walls and bringing nothing into the Drift, this freaks him out.

The blinking notification leads to a short video, the red hair of his stepsister immediately recognizable even in the thumbnail.

Billy hit play.

Max’s freckled faces comes into view, a bit unfocused due to the quality of her old phone camera, but her red-rimmed eyes are still noticeable. Billy can just make out some stencil painted military signs over her shoulder, guessing that she is at the Shatterdome in Sidney.

_"Oi, Asshead!"_

Her adapted Australian accent sounds as hilarious as the last time Billy has talked to her on the phone two weeks ago.

_"Why didn't you wait for me? Now I have to sit around two days till they send the next chopper over to L.A.!”_

A horn is honked off-screen, someone shouting at Max to get out of the way. Billy can't stop the little proud smile when she flips them the bird, rolling her eyes. Slowly he lowers himself onto the squeaking chair, growling softly. He really needs some ice and a shitload of sleep.

_"I'm so fucking pissed! Look at my face! Look at it! Pissed! All people here are assholes!"_

Billy watches her wandering around for a bit, all the while ranting about the unfriendly people and how cold and boring the Shatterdome is before her anger finally runs out. Thinking that the message might be over, he leans forward to shoot the computer down, but Max speaks up again, her face no longer in the frame, her voice soft and small, sounding her age for once.

_"I really could have needed you... You are the only person I have left... Shithead."_

The video ends, the screen goes dark. Billy feels suddenly bad about leaving her behind, for not trying harder to get his supervising officer to wait a bit longer before sending him over to L.A. Him and Max always seemed to clash whenever they are near each other, but besides all their differences Billy always makes sure to keep in contact with his stepsister as much as his busy schedule as a pilot allows it, sending occasional texts and video messages.

But the last three weeks have been harsh on both of them. Shortly before his last catastrophic drop, some officials had reached out, telling him about his father’s and Susan’s sudden death in an unfortunate car accident. Unable to deal with the fallout after his near-death experience, having to spend two weeks under closes medical watch and absolving countless tests alone and together with Heather, Billy had missed the funeral, leaving Max on her own through all of it. The moment orders had dropped about relocating to Los Angeles, he had invited his sister along to join him. There was nothing left in Australia for both of them, after all.

-  
Couldn’t wait, shitbird. had my orders.  
Will be there when you land.  
B.  
-

After messaging back a short replay - no need to send a video message, Max would just throw a fit over his busted face - Billy got slowly back on his feet, just to fall into bed immediately.

Everything else could wait till tomorrow.

~~*~~

Because they have El and Heliacal Nomad in the Shatterdome for emergencies, the test runs are scheduled for the middle of the next day, giving Billy some time to sleep till 8 am and get a few good stretches in before leaving his room. Ge feels a bit yet-legged, but every Shatterdome runs on its own internal time anyway.

Meeting Joyce Byers at breakfast is a bit of a bizarre experience. Sidneys resident LOCCENT head officer has been some Russian military guy, cold and with a twisted kind of humor. Most people - Including Eleven, Heather and him - had made sure to stay out of Dr. Zharkov’s way at all costs and not fall into his bad grace.

Billy is distantly aware that not every supervising officer is like that, has met his fair share of generals and marshalls and whatever height decorating title they were clapping themself on the shoulder over, but none of them ever invited him to sit at her table with her two sons and share some apple slices.

Joyce had asked a few questions about Sidney and if he was adjusting okay and it took Billy a bit to accept that she was in fact just friendly and not trying to pry any intel out of him. To calm down her constant nagging about the bruises on his face, he had finally agreed to go down to medical and get it checked out. Thought luck that she didn't know about the black and blue coloring decorating the left side of his ribcage. El could have been a bit more gently while tossing him around.

That's how Billy finds himself walking into the medical facilities shortly after ten am and being greeted by Steve Harrington’s very shirtless, very pale back. The other Jaegerpilot is sitting on one of the stretchers, following directions while one of the nurses shines a little flashlight into his eyes. The rumpled PPDC-issued clothes on the bed are a good indicator that he might have spend the night down here. It seems a bit dramatic, Billy only hit him a few times.

Before the sudden urge to turn right around and walk back out can transform into actual action, one of the doctors notices him hovering in the doorway.

"Ranger Hargrove. We were waiting for your arrival."

Harrington peers over his shoulder, to fast to aim for casual. His expression darkens a bit and he presses his pretty lips into a thin line but stays silent. A few bandaids are strategically placed over the biggest cut's on his face. The cut over his right eyebrow - courtesy of Billy’s ring - stands out angry and red. After a moment Steve turns his back to him again and Billy can feel his hackles rise at that, being dismissed so easily. As if Billy hadn't just beaten his face in yesterday.

"Please get your shirt off and sit over there."

The impulse to refuse, to lie that he just walked in there by accident feels too much like losing a battle, so instead Billy rips his black shirt over his head and goes to sit down on the bad opposite to King Steve, who still ignores him.

It's hard to overlook how different and jet alike their bodies are. Where Billy has way more bulk and muscles, earned through hard and long training, Harrington is lite and wiry, but not less muscular, with a ton of moles splattered over every part of his body. Both of them have their own battle scars, testaments of the fact that they are still alive while their former partners aren't.

Most of the left side of Harrington’s upper body and his left arm is marked with sharp, angular burn marks, where the electric circuits of the pilot-suit had burned deep into the skin, destroyed by extreme neural feedback from the Jaeger during a battle. Steve usually covers them up, wears longsleeved shirts and jackets. Billy has never seen the scars in any promo material featuring Obsidian Echo and the pilot-team, and he has a hard time averting his eyes. He remembers the footage from two years ago vividly, how the Kaiju ripped into Jade Brutus, clawing Tommy Hagan right out of the Jaeger, leaving Harrington behind. That was not supposed to happen. Part of the appeal of being a jockeying duo was that no person would die alone.

Not that Billy didn't know better already, got his own scars to match, his own neuronal damage to show off, a hole ripped in his mind when his cop-pilot had been stabbed through by a long, sharp tongue. The same tongue that couldn't fully reach Billy, only stabbing his sides and chest and leaving angry wounds behind that took forever to heal because some kaiju blue had seeped right in.

"What are you looking at, Hargrove?"

Lost in his own head, Billy had spaced out staring at Harrington’s chest without really seeing it, blinking out of it with a little shake.

"Didn't take you for the chest-hair type."

The answer is better than honesty and he dials it up to ten by sticking his tongue out, prompting King Steve to roll his eyes. The other pilot ignores Billy’s stupid remark, has some more pressing questions, seemingly.

"I... can’t remember hitting you there."

Steve gestures vaguely to Billy’s ribs.

"You didn't. Landed wrong when El throw me around with her mind."

"Oh. So that's what happened, hu?"

It seems he had hit Harrington harder then he intended to if he had been that out of it to not notice what got Billy away from him. Now he understands why the doctor had kept Steve here. He probably had worse than just a mild concussion.

Only offering an uncommenting noise, Billy gets distracted by a nurse probing at his bruises and starting to put some ointment on. Harrington is fully dressed when he looks back up, finds he misses the sight a little. Not trusting the universal drift bullshit one bit didn't mean Billy couldn't appreciate an attractive guy when he saw one.

Standing a bit awkwardly, Harrington scratches at his nack, opens his mouth. Closes it again. He looks uncertain and uncomfortable.

"What got your panties in a twist, pretty boy?"

Billy can't mask the mean satisfaction in his tone, how much he enjoys the power to make Steve fidget. The other pilot licks his lips, once, twice, apparently a nervous gesture, then he shakes his head.

"See you at testing, Hargrove."

~~*~~

When Billy shows up to LOCCENT after Lunch, Harrington is nowhere in sight and he can only suspect that the older man is hanging around in Suit-Up, coaching both Heather and Buckley for their first drift together. Sounds like something he would do.

“Steve is helping Robin suit up.”

Eleven stepped up to his side and he has to peer down at her with a critical raised eyebrow

“No peaking into my head, squirt.”

Over the last year, Billy had formed a little friendship with the silent and usually pretty unsociable girl. They were an odd pair, but he liked Jane just fine, didn’t care about the powers or her being the daughter of the Marchall. Heather had also made sure that El would feel included as often as possible, somehow being very understanding about the fact that their youngest and most special Jaegerpilot lacked the emotional connection to others in a day-to-day basis and also in the drift.

“Didn’t. Your telegraphing.”

Ruffling her short, messy curls is easy, seeing how Eleven only reaches up to Billy’s shoulder, and she lets him, not so secretly enjoys being near someone she trusts.

“Bullshit.” 

Billy keeps muttering to himself, but can only, finally concentrate properly on the connecting Con-Pod when Harrington hurries through the door to LOCCENT a few minutes later. He comes to stand by Billy’s side, as if that is a natural behavior for them, as if he didn’t beat the shit out of Steve a day ago. As if they are Co-Pilots.

Feeling like his gut trying for a complicated knot, Billy manhandles Eleven to stand between them both, ignoring the short flicker of hurt crossing Harringtons face.

Joyce counts down to initiate the neural handshake, all LOCCENT collectively holding their breath for the second it takes for the connection to form. The numbers on-screen flash green.

“Neural handshake holding and stabilizing. Good job ladies. You alright in there?”

The Comm crackles to life, Buckley’s voice filtering through the speakers.

_“Yeah. Just make it quick.”_

“Why? Oh… Heather, are you okay? Your vitals are acting up.”

Steve has already stepped to the consoles, standing at the Marshall’s side to get a better look at the readings that flash on all the screens. Heather’s heart rate and temperature are spiking. Not out of parameter, but still noticeable. Billy looks back over to the Jaeger, feeling irritation rise up. His co-pilot is usually very calm and professional, he can’t imagine what could have caused that reaction.

 _“She is okay.”_ Robin again. _“We can compleat the test, Joyce.”_

The static crackles for a moment longer then reconnect. This time it is Heather who is speaking. She sounds a bit strained and breathless and… like she is crying?

_“I’m okay. Promise.”_

Still unsure how to proceed, The head officer looks over to Hopper, then to Steve, to Billy’s surprise. Harrington licks his lips in that fleeting gesture of nerves he had noticed earlier, then nods.

“They are good. It’s something emotional, but I don’t get any panic from Robin. She would tell us if we needed to stop.”

It had never occurred to Billy that whatever connection they have - because of Harrington’s mind holding on so strongly - could also be useful like that. He still would rather pilot alone than be stuck with someone sharing his mind, no other person has business rustling around in his brain. 

Joyce trusts Steves’s judgment and swiftly runs the girls through a few tests to determine that the connection is holding stabile and that Obsidian Echo does respond well to its new Pilot Pair. Heather’s vitals don’t calm down through all of it, but the test-run is an absolute success otherwise.

The moment Marschal Hopper orders them to disconnect, Harrington sprints out of the room, worry clearly written on his face. Billy feels calmer about it, Heather is a big girl after all,. She can take care of herself and say so if not, so he follows in a much more relaxed manner. The Con-Pot has already un-docked and is back on maintenance level with both pilots walking out of it as Billy arrives.

Heather’s face is red and blotchy, her eyes still wet, she is clutching at Robin as if she is her lifeline.

Instead of just demanding an answer, Steve envelopes Heather into a hug, prompting her to start crying again. Robin cuddles up to both of them, wrapping herself around her new co-pilot, all the while glaring at Billy.

“Don’t.”

Trying to wipe her tears away, Heather grasps onto her new partner and Buckley mirrors the action, holding her hand. The realization that both women have already format some bond after just that one short drift, hit’s Billy suddenly. He and Heather never had that, _he_ never wanted that, always keeping his walls up the way he was trained too, and teaching Heather the same.

“You can’t just expect me to - that’s abuse!”

“What?” Steve says the same moment Billy snarls “What the fuck?”

Blue eyes burning, her face turning red in her anger, Robin seems ready to leap at him uns throw punches, and by the look of her rage, Billy is not sure he would stand a chance. 

“You asshole shut her off in the drift! Denied her any real connection! With your stupid fucking walls! You are such an egoistic asshole, Hargrove!”

“It’s not Billy’s fault. Please, Robin. I just can’t right now...”

Unable to stop crying, Heather shakes apart in Robin’s arms, while Billy can only stare in bewilderment. He is stunned by the accusation, feels thrown off balance. It had never occurred to him that his Co-Pilot would want the connection between minds that the neural handshake brought with it. Getting a tour through someone else’s memories, being completely seen… who would want that? Billy sure as hell didn’t.

To occupied with calming her co-pilot, Robin stays kneeling on the ground, but Harrington gets up after one last tight hug, his eyes trained on Billy.

“What walls? What is Robin talking about?”

Feeling himself bristle, Billy snarls at the other man. 

“Fuck off, Harrington.”

“I won’t. We’ll be drifting soon. I need to know what to expect.”

As on cue, Joycs voice sounds over the speakers, static and distorted, ending the conversation before it can really begin.

_“Ranger Harrington, Ranger Hargrove, please report to Suit-up to get ready for testing. We will start in ten minutes.”_

~~*~~

Ignoring Harringtons imploring gaze is harder than it should be, but Billy stubbornly presses his lips into a flat line and stares straight ahead.

 _’ I don’t want you to drift with him.’_ , Buckley had said to Steve before leaving, eyes earnest and pleading. The words are still bouncing around in Billy’s head, getting louder with every second. As if he didn’t know how to drift. He might dislike Harrington and his needy ability, his stupid, pretty face, might hate that the Marshall thinks they were so alike in what they had gone through. But he wouldn’t fuck up his only chance to keep jockeying.

"Are you ready?"

Harrington is still looking at him, completely suited up in his old black drift-suit in the colors of Obsidian Echo, the right shoulder plate even older, silver with a hint of orange, with tally marks for all his kaiju-kills. Billy remembers seeing Tommy and Steve on TV - them being a year out of training - noticing the first two lines and thinking it was corny as fuck. But by now it is just a reminder of things lost even when the battle is won. The black marks change to blue after the sixth, marking the beginning of Harrington’s time with a new Co-Pilot. A little cross separates the two sets of lines.

"Are you?"

Rewarding Billy's moody question with an eye roll, Steve stretches upwards, then downwards, testing the fit of the suit. Billy leads them into the Con-Pot, takes the right side without asking. The right hemisphere is the dominant one, in no way would he accept any other position.

Till the newest Jaeger of the fleet is shipped over from Hong Kong, he and Harrington will run the first tests in Obsidian Echo, not that he minds. The Con-Pot of the Mark IV is nearly identical to what Rebel Prospect used to look like, before getting shredded by a fucking giant-ass kaiju, the interior just more black than Heather’s and his signature red.

_"Rangers, confirm your position."_

Head officer Byers sounds a bit more stressed out then with the previous test run, but that could easily be a trick of the static distortions.

"Getting ready for entering," Billy confirms over the Com, not giving Harrington any chance to even lift his hand to press the button. It erns Billy an unimpressed side glance.

They get strapped in, the Tech-crew finally leaving the Con-Pot after every clasp is secure and every bolt fastened. One of the Obsidian Echo guys, a curly-haired brat that looked like a fucking baby, even has the nerve to shoot Billy a warning glance, as if to say _Don't fuck with my Jaeger._

With an all too familiar lurch, the Pot finally gets dropped, sending them downwards, mechanics and hydraulics wiring while connecting the head to the body of the Jaeger.

_"Ten seconds till Drift Initiation."_

Half his face obscured by the helmet, Harrington looks over again. Billy isn’t wondering for the first time how he gets all his enormous hair to fit into that tiny thing. 

"Hey, Hargrove! What did Robin mean? What walls?" 

_"Ten"_

_"Nine"_

_"Eight"_

"You're asking that now?" 

_"Seven"_

_"Six"_

"I need to know what to expect!" 

_"Five"_

_"Four"_

_"Three"_

"Just stay out of my head, Harrington." 

_"Two"_

_"One"_

"Billy, that's not how this w-" 

The Drift pulls them under. 

After years of learning and training, Billy gets his walls up immediately, expects some reluctance from Harrington’s side of the connection, some subconscious walls to press against his own mental barrier, but there is nothing. No resistance at all. Only emptiness and the feeling of being welcomed. Nothing Billy knows. Nothing to keep him balanced. 

Billy has one moment to let panic overcome him, then his whole being bursts out into the provided space, floods and fills it. Drifting had never been like this. Not with Heather. Not with his mother. And it rips him away without any chance to withstand. 

_\- 'it was at least seven feet', a warm smile, a soft touch, the taste of salt on his tongue and the feeling of sand under his naked toes -_

_\- to afraid to move but still trying to protect, trying to stand his ground with his back to the kitchen table, edge painfully digging into his lower back -_

_\- crying on the phone, 'please come home' and 'please don't leave me here alone' and the soft noise of a disconnected line, realizing that he was completely and truly alone now, only the monster left that didn't hide under his bed -_

_\- suddenly, real monsters -_

"...hargrove?" 

_\- fear turning into hurt turning into anger turning into rage, hitting and getting hit, the pain turning into numbness, the bruises into trivia -_

_\- burning red hair and a firecracker personality and the possibility of suddenly having someone in his corner, someone he wants to do better for, someone he wants to protect -_

_\- his heart dropping, her voice through the phone when she finally calls, 'i need you to help me. come drift with me' -_

"Hargrove! You have to let go! Just -" 

_\- his test scores coming back good, deeming him a fitting candidate, finally a way to connect to her, everything he always wanted -_

_\- emptiness. walls. 'you will learn to shield yourself. you will bring nothing into the drift. nothing to distract, nothing to judge. we will figure out a way for all pilots' -_

_\- to disobey would mean to get sent back home so he learns and masters to be an empty slate, to bury his feelings deep inside -_

_\- there is love and she -_

_\- she is gone-_

**"Billy!"**

Billy comes out of the Drift on his knees and shaking, already disconnected, with his helmet missing. The stinging of his cheek makes him realize that Harrington must have slapped him to get him out of the flood of memories. But it is only distant. All he can see is his mother, sinking to the floor of the Con-Pot 

_\- a different Con-Pot -_

_blood gushing from the impossible huge gaping wound in her chest. And the Kaiju is dead, but his mother is dying. Billy has drifted with her countless times, running simulation after simulation to find a way for Rangers to drift burden-free, has learned how to control what he brings into the connection. His mother's theories had withstood the practical test, too, earning them two kills as a team - three now. But something went horribly wrong, the Kaiju cracking the hull of the Con-Pot and stabbing it’s impossible sharp and powerful tongue inside, ripping through wiring and pipes and flesh. And now he can feel his mother dying, can feel all her fear and regret spilling over into their still holding connection, feels all her love for him she had bottled up. And then the connection fades._

"Billy. Billy, look at me. that's not real. It's not real." 

"It was..." 

"I know. I'm sorry. I know." 

Slowly, Billy finds back into his own mind, into the present, follows the soft push and pull of Harrington’s voice and hands. He feels drained, can’t even lash out against the comforting fingers that rub calming circles into his sweat-soaked hair. There is a soft, warm part in his mind, something that hadn’t been there before, that feels distinctively Steve and Billy finds comfort in the new bond while medical personal and crewmembers burst through the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for this chapters rollercoaster.
> 
> Leave some Love! And feel free to scream at me on ["Tumblr!"](https://klayr-de-gall.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Leave some Love!  
> Also you can find me on tumblr as ["klayr-de-gall"](https://klayr-de-gall.tumblr.com/)! <3
> 
> To help with some possible confusion, here are the Pilots and their Jaegers:  
> Obsidian Echo: Steve + Robin  
> Rebel Prospect: Billy + Heather  
> Heliacal Nomad: Eleven


End file.
